


what we find in the telling

by fabrega



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, M/M, Movie Spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-07
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-18 11:36:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1427041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabrega/pseuds/fabrega
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tell me about him."</p>
<p>Spoilers for The Winter Soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what we find in the telling

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [о чем говорят слова](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2552351) by [superstition](https://archiveofourown.org/users/superstition/pseuds/superstition)



> SPOILERS for The Winter Soldier.
> 
> Thanks to Alex and Sara for the initial read, the encouragement, and the flail.

"Tell me about him," Sam says. 

The file Natasha had given Steve at Nick Fury's grave sits on Sam's kitchen table between them. Steve's mouth opens slightly and his jaw works while he tries to figure out how to answer. Then, he slides the file across to Sam.

*

"Tell me about him," Natasha says. She'd removed her feet from the dash when Steve had asked; now they're tucked up under her on the truck's seat as she leans up against the window, her hair even redder in the setting sun.

Steve, who'd been absorbed in thought about the time he'd spent at their destination, starts at the question. "Who?"

Natasha shrugs. "Whoever made you like this," she says, gesturing with an open hand at all of Steve. "I've seen the files that SHIELD has, but it's got to be different when you're there."

"Whoever made me like this..." Steve repeats. Then, he says carefully, "Well, we grew up together."

Natasha's head turns from the road to look at him quizzically. "You knew the guy who made the super-soldier serum before you were chosen for the program? That's not in the SSR file--I mean, it's been a while since I read about it, but wasn't the good doctor from Germany?"

Steve quickly corrects himself, tells her about the SSR, Dr. Erskine, his faith in Steve, and the drink they never got to share. This seems to satisfy her, and he spends the rest of the ride trying to coax one true fact about her past out of her. (He does not succeed.)

Later, in Fury's bunker, she asks him about the Winter Soldier, the man Steve thinks he is. "Tell me about him," she says, her voice businesslike, expecting a briefing. She doesn't take her eyes off the doctor, who is sewing stitches into her shoulder.

"We grew up together," Steve begins.

Natasha's head snaps up at that. She catches his gaze and gives him a worried look.

*

"Tell me about him," Peggy says. Steve hadn't noticed her come in, and he clutches his sketchbook close to his chest. Peggy can't hide the flash of a smile that crosses her face, but there's sympathy there too. "It's not a secret, Steve. You're not very good at secrets."

Steve smiles too, a sheepish smile full of sadness, and he tilts the sketchbook back down onto the table. It reveals a sketch of Sergeant Barnes, a lot of obvious time and care put into the details. 

The way the page it's on is worn also tells Peggy it's not something Steve's done since the train.

"You knew Bucky," Steve says.

"Not well. Not the way you did," Peggy replies gently. She takes a seat next to Steve, puts her hand over his on the table. "He obviously meant a lot to you."

"You know," Steve says after several long moments, "When I was a kid, I always thought that tight feeling in my chest was my asthma."

"And now?" she asks, because it's clear he wants her to. She watches the way the pencil in Steve's free hand idly traces along the structure of Barnes' jaw.

He looks up at her, sad and scared. "The asthma's gone, but the feeling's still there," he says, and something in his voice breaks Peggy's heart.

*

"No, _you_ tell me about him," Sam corrects. "I've already looked at the file." He pushes the folder back at Steve, watches closely as he looks down at the photos it contains.

"I... I loved him," Steve says. He answers like a man who's had a very long time to think about it.

"Is that like the way you love America, or--" Sam stops talking at the no-nonsense look Steve gives him. "Sorry, stupid question. So, Agent Carter...?"

Steve's lips twist sideways into a smile and he digs in his pockets confidently. He pulls out the same small notebook Sam had seen him write Marvin Gaye into earlier and thumbs through it for a second before finding what he's looking for. "Sam," he says, "Have you heard of the Kinsey scale?"

He sounds so confident, Sam can't help but laugh. "Fair enough, fair enough. So, did you... did he..."

"Did anything happen? No, I never asked. By the time I figured myself out, it was too late." Sam has seen that look of regret on a hundred different soldiers at the VA, but that doesn't make this any easier. "But now... He saved me. When I fell from the helicarrier, there's no way I made it to shore on my own. I know he pulled me out."

"You saw him do it?" Sam asks, although he shouldn't.

"I don't remember, but I _know_." Steve looks frustrated. "He's in there somewhere, Sam. He has to be." He unclenches his fists, sets his hands flat on the table. "There. I told you about him. Are you happy?"

Sam shoots back: "Are you?"

***

"Tell me about him. Tell me!" the Winter Soldier screams.

The Hydra suit does not answer, just makes a terrified wailing noise as the Winter Soldier hoists him higher off the ground and tightens the grip around his throat. "Who?" the man chokes out, his feet struggling to touch the ground.

The name sounds strange to him as it leaves his mouth. "James Buchanan Barnes."

A wave of panic crosses the man's face. "I don't--I don't know who that is--"

The Winter Soldier sighs impatiently. "My files. Bring me all the files you have on me."

The Hydra suit looks like he's still trying to decide between his allegiance and his life, so the Winter Soldier slams him up against the wall one more time, to make his point. Then the suit is released, and he scurries over to the closest computer terminal. He knows he is being watched carefully; he knows that no false moves will be tolerated. 

"I... I don't have access to everything," the man says, It makes sense; after the fight aboard the helicarrier, the Winter Soldier had returned immediately to the building where his handlers had kept him, unsure of what he'd find there. What he found, apparently, was one low-level Hydra suit whose job it was to clean up what Hydra had left behind here. He'd been planting charges when he'd been overtaken.

He waves the man away from the terminal. "Let me see."

When he finishes reading, the Hydra suit is still cowering where he'd fallen. The man who might be James Buchanan Barnes reaches for his gun--he can't leave any witnesses--then stops and thinks about helplessness, mercy, and the body he'd pulled from the river.

He leaves the man strapped into the chair he's all-too familiar with, electricity coursing into both sides of his head. He's not dead, but he won't remember anything. It has to count for something.

*

"Tell me about him," the man who doesn't really feel like Bucky Barnes whispers. Around him, the crowd mills through the Captain America exhibit, enjoying their visits to the Air & Space Museum. He's here again, reckless, three days in a row; hours spent standing in the middle of a shrine to the man who was his mission. He's heard the audio narration enough times to learn it by rote and repeat it back in time. He's watched all the film loops: Howard Stark, who made and lost a hero, regretful; three of the Howling Commandos, who were rescued by and loyal to a hero, fierce and defensive; Peggy Carter, who loved a hero, her voice faltering as she talks about the man she remembered, the man she'd lost. He's stared hard at the face that looks like his own as the exhibit narrator repeats over and over again how Bucky was the only one to give his life for his country.

It doesn't feel like giving. It feels like it's been taken.

He watches that film loop, too, the one about Bucky, the one where Bucky Barnes looks at Captain America and grins, where Captain America looks back and smiles and his eyes light up. This is the flipside of the Hydra information he'd retrieved, the candy-coated version of his past. There is no in-between, no way to make up his own mind without the propaganda tint.

"Tell me, tell me anything about him!" he hisses aloud at the exhibit again, unsure himself of who he means.

***

"Tell me about him." At the sound of the familiar voice, Steve is wide awake. He grasps down beside the bed for his shield, which has gone missing; when he turns on the bedside lamp, he sees it over next to the chair by the window--the one where Bucky's sitting.

Steve moves to run; to fight; to call for Sam, who's asleep in the next room, but Bucky raises both his hands, palms open, empty, one flesh and one metal. "Easy," he says, obviously trying to be non-threatening, almost succeeding at it.

"What are you doing in my apartment?" Steve asks, setting his jaw.

"I... I need you to tell me about Bucky Barnes," Bucky says. He won't meet Steve's eyes.

Steve snorts. "Not you too." Bucky frowns, not understanding, and Steve sighs. "What do you want to know?" He watches as Bucky tries to formulate a question, studies Bucky's face, its familiar lines, its new scars.

"What do you remember about him?" Bucky finally says. "I've heard the Hydra version and what the victors who wrote the history books say, but there has to be something else." He looks up now, catches Steve staring at him. Steve suddenly feels that tightness in his chest again. "There has to be a reason you trusted the enemy with your friend's face not to kill you."

Steve doesn't answer, not right away, just sits up in the bed and concentrates on keeping his breath steady. "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky," he says finally.

"Did you love him?" Bucky asks suddenly, and Steve wants to laugh, and Steve wants to cry, and Steve just nods, trying to get his world to settle under him again.

"I did," he says, and his voice sounds shaky in his own ears. "I do. I always have."

"Did he love you?" Bucky asks.

Steve's heart stops. "I thought maybe you'd know."

***

"So, tell me about him," Steve says, the words moving his jaw under the trailing thumb of the man who just might be Bucky Barnes.

"Tell you about who?" he says, surprised by the question. He rolls in closer to Steve, skin against skin, trying to ignore and push down the feeling that this happiness isn't meant for him, is meant for someone who looks like him and died a long time ago.

Steve takes a deep breath--this can't be good--and says, "Tell me about the Winter Soldier."

He panics. "No--I don't--you can't--no." Eventually he forms a complete sentence: "You don't really want to know that. There's nothing good there, no good stories, no happy endings. He's not Bucky, Steve." He sits up in the bed, moves to gather his clothes and leave.

Then Steve catches his shoulder. "No, but he's you, and you're here. That's a happy enough ending for me."

And if Bucky Barnes hadn't loved Steve Rogers before, what's left of Bucky Barnes does now.


End file.
